Coitus Interruptus
by lederra
Summary: The musketeers like to spend time some quality time with their ladies but more often than not they get disturbed.
1. Aramis

Coitus Interuptus!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of the Musketeer realm, they belong solely to their creator/s whether it be Alexander Dumas or the one who adapted it for the TV series, The Musketeers. As such I do not make any money from this or any other story that I write for his site.

A/N: One of my favourite scenes from the Musketeers series is in season 3 when Athos and Sylvie got disturbed when they were trying to some fun adult time together. I thought how about all four of the musketeers getting disturbed when they are with their ladies.

I intend for this story to be just 4 chapters long but if there is interest I might add some more chapters to the story and a few more of the characters, such as Treville, a few of the cadets, Feron, etc.

The title is in Latin and though I know a little Latin, it is not a language that I am fluent in and so hope I have spelled it correctly.

Summary:

Each time either Athos, D'artagnan, Aramis or Porthos try to get some time with their respective lady or in Aramis's case ladies, they keep getting disturbed. I was going to start the story off with Athos and Sylvie but instead it is going to be Aramis as he is such the flirt of the group.

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Aramis

As Aramis glided past the lady of his choice for the night, he placed a hand gently on the small of her back, startling her slightly at the gentleness of his touch. The woman was not use to men treating her in such a gentle and respectful manner, most just grabbed her and took what they wanted with no regards to her own wants or needs, but she had heard from the other girls, that the musketeer who was guiding her to her room was different to most other men.

The room they entered was small in comparison to some of the other rooms of the brothel but it was large and comfortable enough for what normally took place in the room. It was almost spartan with just a bed, 2 separate occasional chairs and a small side table which sat at the side of a fire that had been light not long ago and the logs were smouldering a little with a few little flames, the embers glowed warm in the fire place giving an almost ethereal look to the room.

On one wall there were two life-sized female nudes drawn in simple brushstrokes, titillating and dreamy images that aroused yet at the same time relaxed anyone in the room, one of the nudes showed a woman reclining on a chaise lounge, the full curve of her hip and back visible while her hair spilled across chest.

The other nude depicted a woman sat on her bottom, her legs drawn up with her arms hugging them against her chest with her hair spilling as though onto the ground beneath her, half covering her almost like a shroud.

To Aramis, it was as if the artist had captured the two images of the women in a simplistic rendition of women's quiet but complicated souls.

Guiding the young woman who was his entertainment for the evening towards the bed, he waited while she removed her dress, he would have preferred to remove the dress himself but tonight he wanted to see the woman of his choosing, do it herself for him.

He sat down on one of the two chairs and watched as she shimmered sensually out of the dress, his pulse quickening as the dress slid to the ground. Aramis sighed as he gazed upon her unclad body, the young woman standing before him unashamed in all her glory.

The young woman was astoundingly beautiful for one such as she, who was to be found in this profession, she had a small waist from which her child bearing hips flared out in a sensual curve, her legs were long and shapely and her bosom was just the way that Aramis liked them, ample and pert. She looked almost like one of the ancient goddesses of Greece or some other past empire as she stood there looking at him in almost a doe like manner while her red curls cascaded down her back and framed her face.

He stood quickly, his ardour almost getting the better of him, he wanted this night to last as he made his way swiftly in just a few steps, to where the young 'goddess' stood.

Aramis licked his lower lip as he guided her back on the bed, his gaze lingering on her for just a brief second, before he bent his head and kissed her tenderly upon her full luscious lips, his hand trailing down her side, his fingers brushing across the flesh of her her surprisingly flat stomach.

She tensed beneath him, as his hand explored her body softly, the sensation making her softly moan at the exquisite way, his wandering hand made her feel. Such scoundrel, she thought to herself, so this was why the other ladies of the house were always so pleased to see the musketeer, if he was as gentle with them as he was being with her.

It was evident from his touch that he was experienced and confident about touching a woman's body and she liked that, it made up for all the clumsy almost inexperienced males that sometimes graced her presence but even they were better, than those who just took what they wanted without any regard to whether she wanted it or not.

She felt Aramis move his hand further down and his lips leaving hers as he leaned back slightly on the bed, and took her foot in his hands and started to massage it. He handled her foot with a a surprising familiarity as he caressed and eased the tension out of her body while massaging of her foot.

Her curiosity of him rose, as she studied him with half closed eyes and she studied the hands that presently had hold of her other foot as they massaged it. For a soldier he had surprisingly clean nails, she had not thought his nails would be so clean. There was a fine dusting of hairs that lay upon his long and slender fingers that handled her with a gentle but firm assurance, his grip was strong but not too strong that it hurt.

The careful balance of strength and consideration that she felt from the way his hands held her made her shiver with anticipation, at the thought of how those same hands would feel gripping the rest of her body.

Aramis moved further up her body, shifting his body as he leaned over the one beneath him, he felt her lack of fear of him and it pleased him, that and the fact that he could tell that his massage of her feet had aroused her. He smiled, this was the way that a woman should feel beneath him, loved and aroused and he lowered his lips again to kiss her.

As he deepened his kiss, he felt her hands roaming down his still clad body, and he could feel her undoing the clasps and ties of his clothes as she started to divest him of his clothes. He smiled again, this was definitely going to be a wonderful night, he just knew it in his soul.

All of a sudden there was a hammering at the door and he groaned as he heard Porthos on the other side of the door, yelling his name and telling him they had to go, duty called. He groaned in disgust and dismay, it was so unfair he had been looking forward to bedding this beauty for a long time ad tonight it had seemed would be the night to do it. As he pulled himself reluctantly away from the bed, buttoning up buttons and retying his laces and clasps on his clothing he looked with longing back at the girl,who still lay upon the bed watching him.

"What is you name?" he asked.

As he reached for the door, opening and taking one last look at her before he left.

"Adele."

He heard her call softly to him, as he left the room and joined his fellow musketeer.

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A/N: Well that is the first chapter, I hope you liked it. I am not, I will admit very good at writing romantic/touchy feelings sort of stories but occasionally I have a go at them, so I hope my offering has not offended any of you. Reviews would be welcomed if you are of a mind to leave any but if not, then no worries.


	2. Porthos

All Porthos wanted was a nice hearty and substantial meal, he had been away from the garrison for a full week following the trail of a would be assassin but the man had disappeared into thin air. It was as if the assassin was nothing but a ghost, an imagination of everyone's imagination from the king right down to the chambermaid who had claimed that she had seen a masked man leaping from the balcony outside of the queens bedroom following an attempt on her life.

Now he followed the only clue he had left, he paused outside of the window of a printer, that a rather eager beggar who had accosted him had told him of, where he would find the final piece of the puzzle, the identity of the would be assassin.

The printer occupied a shabby building on the edge of the city, the whole ground floor that appeared to be a better-kept building than those surrounding it; the front windows looked as though they had not been cleaned in a while but it was still possible to see through them, a neat looking shop floor stood within, Porthos's breath misted on the glass.

Rows of printed pamphlets and books were arranged on shelves behind a man in his shirt sleeves was bent over a open book that lay upon the counter in front of him.

The sound of fast moving footsteps alerted Porthos that someone was coming, and he swiftly moved across the narrow street, into the shadows on the other side the street, just opposite to the shop.

Within minutes of his concealment in the shadows, a figure in a dark cloak came around the corner, and headed for the door of the print shop across from him. Porthos could not see the persons face, as the hood concealed their face but the furtive manner in which they moved, convinced him that this was the person the beggar had claimed, would know who the assassin was.

He checked to make sure his musket was ready and made his way quickly across the street, ignoring the feeling of the hairs standing up on the back of his neck that something was not quite right.

At the sound of the door opening, the printer and his guest snapped their heads up and looked towards the door with faces that spoke volumes of them being up to no good. The hooded one immediately tried to draw their hood back up to conceal their face, but not quickly enough as Porthos caught a glimpse of their features.

"Flea!" he barked in shock at the sight of his old friend.

"Hello, my old lover fancy seeing you here?" Flea murmured sexily, at the sight of her former lover.

Porthos swiftly moved from the doorway and further into the shop, his eyes darting between her and the printer and the room into which he moved, making sure they were all there were in the shop. Though Flea was an old lover, he trusted her not all, to not be up to no good.

"What are you doing here Flea?" he asked.

"What? Can't I visit a printer, you never know I might be in need of a book or pamphlet or something?" She replied.

"You can't read Flea!".

Flea glared at him, the printer looking nervous behind them.

"Well, there is that I suppose. Would you believe I was here collecting something for some one?"

"Collecting what though? I don't see you doing something out of the pure altruism. So what are you really doing here, Flea?" Porthos demanded.

He moved closer to her, taking in the sight of the woman who had once been the love of his life but that had been a long time ago and another lifetime.

"Well, for you information," Flea began as she stepped closer to him, "You are what I am collecting."

"What are you talking about woman?" Anger beginning to cloud his emotions and voice.

"You want to know who it was who tried to kill the queen?"

"So you know who tried to assassinate the queen?"

"Of course I do, and I even know who hired him."

Suddenly the door flew open and a ragamuffin ran in, sliding to a stop in front of Porthos and Flea but it was Flea the child addressed.

"There are red guards coming this way!" She told the woman breathlessly before she quickly ran back to the door and back out into the street beyond it.

Flea moved to the back of the shop towards the almost hidden door, that the printer had pointed at swiftly when they had first heard, the sounds of the red guards in the street outside. As they closed the door quickly but silently behind her, Flea made to move past Porthos towards a set of stairs that ran the outside wall behind the property up towards the second floor, Porthos reached out to grab her wrist but she pulled it away.

"Not here, the red guards might discover the door and then we will be lost, later!"

Flea moved quickly and started climbing up the outside steps, Porthos a few steps behind her as the sounds of people smashing objects and most likely the poor printer were heard, within the building they had just exited. Porthos knew they were in serious danger of the read guards possibly discovering the hidden door before they managed to disappear up the stairs, and jump up onto the roof above he could not help but admire the the slight sway of Fleas hips ahead of him.

She was almost to the top of the stairs when they heard the movement of someone above them and she stopped suddenly, muttering, "Shit."

With his eyes and mind on Fleas swaying hips, Porthos had not expected her to stop so suddenly, and his momentum carried him right into her, so hard that he knocked her off balance, as she swayed dangerously towards the edge of the stairs, he reached forward and grasped her thin wrist before she could fall from the stairs and crash to the ground beneath them.

Flea had uttered a soft cry of alarm as she had headed towards almost certain injury and death, and then it changed to surprise as she felt Porthos large hand reach around her wrist and pulled her back towards him, he pulled her closer with his other hand around her dainty waist.

For the span of mere seconds, he was aware of her small firm breast pressed against his arm, of the fragrance of her hair crushed against him and the firm roundness of her bottom through her skirt, as it rested against a very masculine part of himself.

Flea was acutely aware of the strength of Pothos's arms as she stood within the protection of them, breathing a little breathlessly though whether it was from the near fall she had had, or the safety she had always felt within his arms, she was unsure. She was also acutely aware of the hard breadth of Porthos's muscular chest through his clothing and the muscular fragrance that she had always associated with him.

Both knew that they had to move, they were still in danger of the red guards discovering them but they lingered, savouring the rare moment of intimacy between them.

The sound of movement above them again warned them to move and with reluctance on both their parts they pulled away from the embrace, Porthos's moving ahead of Flea to deal with whoever was inside the room at the top of the stairs.

As he reached the top of the stairs, the door open and a red guard stuck his head out, upon seeing Porthos he pulled his sword out of it's scabbard and charged the musketeer. Porthos did not waste any time pulling his own sword instead he grabbed his musket from his belt, grabbing the approaching man's sword arm as he tried to bring it down, he punched the man in the face with his musket knocking him clean out.

Flea grimaced as she heard the musket connect with the red guards face, it was clear from the sound of the blow that the mans nose was broken and she was not surprised if he lost some teeth too, she knew just how hard Porthos could hit something when he wanted to. Following Porthos as he dragged the now unconscious guard, back into the room he had just left, she quickly secured the door.

She watched while Porthos quickly secured the guard with some scraps of material he found in the room, and then the two of them moved towards the window that over looked the street below.

Just as they reached the window they heard a shout below, Porthos carefully looked out of the window, keeping to the side of it and the shadows as much as he could. Down below he could see several members of the red guard in the street below in front of the shop, a few looking upwards towards the roof. Porthos swore, for the present their escape route was impossible to access, all it would take for the alarm to be raised if one of the men below spotted them and that would be it. They would have to wait it to see if the red guards left before they moved out.

The man behind them remained silent and Porthos looked towards the other side of the room where he could see through the doorway a set of stairs going down into the shop, he saw Flea move close to the stairs. He could see her listening intently to the sounds of the red guards still moving about in the shop below, very slowly and carefully he saw her reach for handle of the door and close it.

She moved slowly and silently back to him, leaning against him as he glanced out of the window again to the street below, there were still too many red guard waiting outside the shop. The two of them slid down the wall, so that they would be more comfortable as they kept both eyes and ears alert to what the red guard were doing. Until the ones outside moved away from the street below they would not be able to make their way out to freedom.

Flea leaned against Porthos's shoulder and took one of his strong and powerful hands into her own, letting her own small and petite hand get lost in the warmth and strength of his. She could just make out a slight amount of dark hair growing on the back of his hand, and she could not help thinking how capable a hand it looked.

Porthos's mouth curved into a sexy smile as he looked at the woman sat at his side, he studied her as she studied his hand as though she had never seen it before.

"See something you like?" he grinned at her.

Flea tilted her head as she studied his face, a coy but flirtatious smile on her elfin face.

"I might," she murmured back.

Porthos grasped her other wrist with a firm but gentle hold and, slowly moved his face closer to hers, pulling her closer to him. She let go of his other hand and he reached behind her, guiding his arm around her waist until they were anchored together. He knew they shouldn't, the danger of the red guards barging in on them was high but the sheer exhilaration of the danger of the situation they were in, was acting like an aphrodisiac.

He brought his other hand up and lifted her chin at an angle within the palm of his hand, the callused pads of his thumb and fingers caressing the sides of her jawline, as he studied the woman he had known for almost all his life.

He lowered his head towards her, his lips brushing against hers.

"I know this is a really bad idea but I want you, here and now!" He growled.

Before Porthos could say anymore, Flea kissed him back, her mouth meeting his in a hard abandonment, his eyes drifted shut in sublime contentment. Flea reached up with her arms, arching her back and locking her arms around him tightly in an instinctive gesture as old as time.

Her kiss was everything that Porthos remembered, or more, before when they had been young their kisses were tender and sometimes slightly hesitant but there was no hesitance in her kiss now. Their lips locked together in a slow and easy, a deep and almost drugging feel to it, and his own open mouth worked in a slow grinding movement against hers.

Her mouth opened and his tongue began to erotically probe the inside of her mouth, Flea closed her mouth around it greedily, accepting the intrusion with a willingness of born of deprivation and anticipation.

Porthos's kisses had always affected her so strongly, her head was spinning slightly and she was only marginally aware of him pushing her backwards gently, his body covering hers as he lowered her to the floor. Their eyes meshed upon one another, mated with desire and lust.

Flea knew they shouldn't, the danger of someone discovering them was too great, she could still hear the sound of men moving about downstairs but it had been such a long time, since the last time the two of them had been in each others embrace.

She relaxed against the floor, as she became aware of one of his knees move between her legs, his hand reaching down to pull the skirt of her dress up, his thigh was pressed intimately against the mound of her womanhood; her breasts were heaving and straining against the barrier of her dress, aching for Porthos's touch. Her tongue skimmed over her lips tasting her old friend on them.

A smile lurked in the depths of her mind as she gazed into his eyes, as she reached up one of her hands and trailed the tips of her fingers against his face. Porthos's turned his head and kissed the inside of her arm, his tongue tracing a lazy pattern on her forearm.

Flea's hand traced the outline of his eyelashes, the hard contours of his jawline and cheeks and his bold straight nose. When her fingers reached his lips, she playfully tugged at the sensual fullness of his bottom lip with her finger.

Porthos ducked his head and nibbled her finger, grinning slightly at her as he drew it into his mouth in a slow, stroking suction that tugged at her heart strings with its sensuality. Pushing up on her elbows, Flea fastened her lips onto his once more.

She heard and felt deep in his throat a growl like groan rumbling, as he threaded his fingers through her hair, cupping the back of her head in his outspread palm as he once more pushed her ever so gently back onto the floor. Hot random kisses being bestowed upon her temple and cheeks, his other hand wandering up to her chest from her waist, when they heard the unmistakable sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs coming up to the room.

They pulled away from each other quickly and reached for their nearest respective weapon, their eyes trained on the door. As it creaked open, Porthos caught the sight of the somewhat beaten and bedraggled printer poking his head gingerly through the door, as though unsure of what or who he would find within.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the two of them but there was an urgency in his eyes as he glanced behind him.

"The red guards are gone but they will be back, so if the two of you want to get out of here now. It would both be a good idea and much appreciated by me, if they did not find you or their bound companion here."

He said, nodding towards the bound man on the floor.

Porthos put his musket into the back into it's holster on his hip and lifted the bound man on the floor with a grunt as he slung the not so slight man over his shoulder. The printer to one side as Porthos passed him and descended down the stairs, Flea moving ahead of him once they were in shop part of the building, she opened the door and peeked through it make sure the coast was clear.

As she glanced back and nodded that the coast was clear, she bolted out of the door into the street, disappearing into the crowd before Porthos with his load could get to the door. The sun outside had descended and the night was creeping in but none of those out would say anything to seeing a red guard draped over his shoulder, this part of the city was notorious for looking the other way especially when someone was up to no good.

Porthos shouldered the man more securely as he left the printers shop, moving briskly till he was out of sight of the shop and into the shadows before he deposited the red guard none too gently into a pile of rubbish, at the back of one of the less than respectable pubs in the city. His eyes glancing around for Flea but she was gone, he groaned he had wanted to find out what she knew about the queens would be assassin, but more importantly he wanted to continue what the printer had disturbed.


	3. D'artagnan

D'artagnan nuzzled his nose against the nape of Constance's neck, they did not have long together before he had to leave for another patrol and she had to return to the palace. He loved how on the outside that she was small, fine-boned like the fine china that his mother had had when he was a child that he had been forbidden to touch in case he broke it, but not delicate like it, when it came to her spirit, Constance was as tough as any man he had met.

Yet despite her strength, which could sometimes break, he still thought of her at times as delicate and he loved this in her, in his Constance, the woman he had come to love from pratically the first moment he had laid eyes on her with all his heart. He had been told by Aramis that all women needed to feel loved and cherished, despite how temperamental and bloody-minded some of them could be, and the art of portraying how much a man could love them, could according to Aramis, be portrayed through physical touch.

Something that D'artagnan was not as experienced with as the present Casanova amongst his friends, but still he hoped that his physical touches of Constance, showed her just how much he loved her.

Constance sighed contentedly and arched her back a little as she leaned backwards against her husband so he could nuzzled her neck some more, she loved moments like this, these shared moments when they could just cuddle together and enjoy each others company, she loved feeling safe in her husbands strong arms.

With his duties as a musketeer and her duties helping at the garrison and at the palace still, they did not seem to have as much time for one another as they hoped but captured moments like this were moments to cherish and they both did.

"Oh D'artagnan!" Constance murmured as she leaned against him. "I want you!"

D'artagnan smiled, leaning in once more to nuzzle her neck once more. His arms came up to pull Constance back towards him into a loving embrace, his lips slowly and tenderly pressing small kisses to the back of her neck. 'Yes,' he thought, moments like this were precious indeed.

As he tightened his arms a little around Constance's waist and pulled her closer, he smelt the subtle scent that she wore and he breathed the scent of it in deeper.

Yes moments like this he thought when he could just relax and cuddle the love of life was definitely worth it!

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A/N: Sorry this chapter is not as long or as sexually active as the first two chapters were.


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